


breakfasts

by vannral



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Banter, Breakfast, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6656275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vannral/pseuds/vannral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quiet, lazy morning at the farm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	breakfasts

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I watched AOU again, and nope, it still stings to see Pietro's last scene. So, yep, as a response, happiness for Pietro and Clint. Also food.

      “What are you doing?”

Now, Clint would like to call offense on that one. Pietro doesn’t have to sound so suspicious, ‘cause Clint knows how to cook. C’mon, he’s got three children, and he can do a mean omelette and pretty damn good waffles, which Pietro full well _knows._

But it’s kind of early, so Clint lets it go. Pietro leans against Clint’s back, his hands settling on the older man’s waist and gently pulls him against him. Pietro’s skin feels warm, even through clothes. It’s cosy in the farm house’s kitchen; the rising sun shines warm, rosy yellow light on the floor, and it’s quiet, comforting.

     “Slept well?” Clint murmurs, as he flips the omelette around. It smells kind of good, so he counts that as a victory.

Pietro kisses the base of his neck lazily. “Mmh-hmm. You stole my covers again, old man.” Clint shivers; Pietro’s voice is still deliciously rough from sleep, like _gravel_ , and it sends a hot, _lovely_ jolt in his stomach.

     “What? It’s still kinda cold. Plus what the hell do you need covers for, you’re like a furnace.”

     “Yes, but I still get cold.”

     “Uh huh. What can I say, you got better covers.” It’s a lie, to be honest, Clint reasons that the covers are warmer and smell like Pietro, and, yeah, Clint is an old weak, _weak_ man, who is definitely and unbearably in love with him. Pietro kisses his neck again and slips his hands under Clint’s ratty t-shirt and absentmindedly pets his stomach. Clint closes his eyes with an uneven exhale and leans against Pietro’s chest.

     “C’mon, you’re gonna make me burn the breakfast”, he murmurs, but doesn’t really mean it. 

     “Am not.” Pietro wraps his arms around Clint’s waist again and kisses his shoulder. “Smells good.”

     “Thanks. I also made coffee.”

     “Even better. And it is not what Stark uses. I did not like it.”

Yeah, Clint remembers. They’d been forced to take a short trip to the Tower last week, and yeah, Stark loves his fancy overpriced coffee.

     “He’d take personal offense to that, you know.” 

     “Oh, he did. I drank it for two days, and it was still as bad.”

     “You just love offending him”, Clint chuckles.  

     “Well, he makes it very easy”, Pietro defends himself, not really all that concerned with Stark’s general opinion of him.  

Clint kind of agrees with him about the easiness, though. “Yeah, well. ‘s just coffee. Hey, Laura’s dropping the kids next weekend.”

Pietro tenses, like he always does, when the wellbeing of Clint’s children is concerned, and asks: “Are they all right?”

Clint’s heart melts; Pietro has pretty impressive protective instincts, and the way Clint’s kids evokes that is no exception.  

     “Yeah, they’re good, ‘s okay”, Clint murmurs, patting him. “School’s probably driving them crazy, so how about we take ‘em to play football or somethin’?”

Pietro relaxes. “Deal. And to throw frisbee.”

Clint snorts fondly. “You goddamn showoff.”

     “It is entertaining your children, is not showing off.”

     “Yeah, ‘cause that’s all what it is.”

Pietro is quiet for a moment. “They are very good kids”, he murmurs finally, and his calloused hand moves to Clint’s chest and settles over his heart. He’s had this habit from the start; apparently he wants to make sure Clint’s heart keeps beating. It’s kind of endearing.  _Sokovia,_ is what he answered, when Clint asked him. It’s all the answer he needs.

     “Could you grab plates? This is ready. And not even burnt, see?”

 But Pietro doesn’t move, he’s draped on Clint as a comforting, warm weight, and Clint’s heart _swells_ with quiet love and adoration. This is good. This is _their_ lives, so good and simple, when the outside is anything but. Pietro turns him around by the hips, and Clint’s breathing hitches; the speedster’s gaze is dark, lazy, _affectionate,_ and he brushes his nose against Clint’s cheek before capturing Clint’s lips into a slow, _sweet_ kiss that _seriously makes Clint’s toes curl._

Pietro tastes like peppermint and familiar warmth and _blue_ and white, and he’s real and tangible, warm and alive, he burns so brightly and vividly, and _god, Clint loves him so much._

     “Good morning, _lyubimaya moya”,_ Pietro murmurs, his voice dropping even deeper, and Clint looks back at him, brushing gently his jawbone. _Sappy in the morning, huh, sweetheart._ It feels like a wonderful, _private_ moment, in the sanctuary of their home, and it means everything.

     “G’mornin’ to you, too, honey”, Clint replies and kisses Pietro again; this time, it’s even slower, just them enjoying this quiet intimacy with each other. “So, those plates, yeah? I’m kinda hungry.”

     “Always so romantic”, Pietro teases him, but it’s good-natured and amused.

     “Hey, worked on you, I don’t see any problem here.”

     “Was more because of your looks, old man.”

     “Wow, you’re so shallow, you just broke my heart, asshole, so you’re not getting any breakfast.”

Pietro grins, and he throws his arm around Clint’s shoulder. “Don’t be like that. Is not true”, he murmurs, kissing Clint’s hair.

     “Yeah, I know”, Clint grunts, a mischievous smile tugging his lips. “Agent, remember.”

     “You are adorable.”

     “Yeah, whatever, the plates, Pietro, c’mon. Omelette’s gettin’ cold.”   

Pietro gets the plates, and they sit to eat. It’s another lovely, lazy morning, and Clint loves every minute of it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :D  
> (Also, if you spot any grammar mistakes, please tell me!)


End file.
